


HE KNEW

by sfmpco



Series: HE KNEW, SHE KNEW, THEY KNEW [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8356720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sfmpco/pseuds/sfmpco
Summary: When Sherlock receives some news, his mind goes into a whirlwind of mixed emotions.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I will just work short form for a while until I get my Sherlock writing groove back on. I always like going into his thought processes anyhow.
> 
> I am typing some, obviously, but my brain is not ready to go back to the novel.

 

He had deduced the situation although he could not pinpoint the exact clue or moment that he knew that Molly was pregnant, but he knew. 

For a moment his blood ran cold.  In his mind he had toyed with the idea of fatherhood, but the idea had been little more than a philosophical discussion based on “what if” rather than a concrete statement of fact. 

He believed he wanted children, or a child a least.  One.  Maybe two.  He’d wait and see how the first one went before committing to a second.  Certainly he was not interested in a half dozen, nor was she.

Sex.  He’d have to be gentler with her.  He knew he wouldn’t hurt the baby, but still, he could be quite vigorous – dare he use the word _athletic_ \- at times, and there would be no more of that.

He knew she wasn’t far along.  She wasn’t showing at all.  He wondered why she was still keeping it a secret.  Certainly she knew it, and if she did know it, then why hadn’t she said anything, dammit.  What right moment was she waiting for?  Perhaps she wasn’t telling him because she felt that ultimately he wasn’t ready for fatherhood.  He’d barely been ready for marriage, and that itself had proven tricky.  _Yes.  That was it_.  She hadn’t said anything because their relationship was rockier than he thought.  Just that morning before she left for work they had argued over something that now seemed entirely trivial, but she had called him self-centered and narcissistic.  She had even said she doubted he would ever change.

She had married him knowing he had those personality traits.  Eyes wide open.  She shouldn’t be trying to change him or even hoping he would change.  What did she expect?  He didn’t try to change her.  Why was she expecting him to be any different?

But why had he been so dogmatic that morning?  Why had it been so important to be right, even though he had been.  What if being right all the time was sometimes wrong?  Well, not wrong _wrong._ Facts could not be changed. But why had it been important to argue them with her?  Mycroft wouldn’t have argued, but Mycroft was a better politician and statesman.  He had far better control of the words that came out of his mouth than did Sherlock.  Mycroft would certainly be better father material in that regard.

That was it.  Mycroft had an ability to listen that Sherlock did not possess.  Sherlock simply wanted to cut to the chase, get to the point, no patience for extraneous fillers to a story.  Maybe that’s what Molly felt.  That he wasn’t listening.  Oh, he wasn’t a good listener, and he was the first to unapologetically admit it.  Listening when he wasn’t the center of attention was boring.  

He was bad husband material, and he would be bad father material.  What had he got himself into?  He should have never married.  Never got involved with her.   Why had he given in?  Nearly a year of marriage and it was crumbling around him.  No wonder she didn’t tell him.

What if he was, by the Mayo Clinic’s definition, narcissistic?  _An exaggerated sense of self-importance?   Expecting to be recognized as superior?  Exaggerating his achievements and talents?_   Well, sometimes.  Okay, not too hard.  _Preoccupied with fantasies about success?_   No, not exactly. Still good. _Believing he was superior and could only be understood by equally special people?_    Dammit.  Guilty.  _Required constant admiration._ No, he preferred a life out of the limelight to be honest.  _A sense of entitlement._   Well only in the acknowledgement of his abilities.  _Expected unquestioning compliance_.  Dammit again.  _Took advantage of others to get what he wanted._   Guilty, guilty, guilty, especially with Molly.  Was he still doing it?  Probably. Dammit.  _Unwillingness or inability to recognize the needs and feelings of others._  Well, he was trying.  Surely Molly would say there was a difference from now to when they had first met.  He did try to turn off his filters and listen, although in truth it was easier after sex when his brain had temporarily switched off.  _Envious of others?_   No, envy wasn’t his style, although at times he felt twinges of it when observing John and Mary together.  For all their issues, there was a short-hand, an intimacy that he wished he had with Molly.  _Behaving in an arrogant or haughty manner._  Although he didn’t fit the profile entirely, he was a narcissist, dammit.  She had been right.  And he had been wrong.

 _He had been wrong._   He hated being wrong.  It was uncomfortable and unfamiliar territory, and dare he think it – it was painful.  As if he had stuck his finger in an electrical socket, the shock rippled through this body and made him catch his breath.  Others had called him a narcissist before, but why did it hurt so much now? Why did he feel his protective walls crumbling only to leave him raw and exposed?

He had once said to her, “If I wasn’t everything that you think I am – everything that I think I am, would you till want to help me?”  She had had unwavering faith in him then, and he had been far more narcissistic in those days.  Oh, he had been awful.  Yet she hadn’t flinched when responding twice, “what do you need?”  Had he used her then?  What a dreadful sod he was.  How could he be a good example to a child?  What if the child picked up all his bad habits?  He’d never hear the end of that from Molly or his family.

 _Deep breath.  Steady on.  You’ve got yourself all worked up._   Another bad habit.  Over-thinking things.  He’d never get that OCD routine worked out of his system without hardcore psychoanalysis, and he was not willing to go that route.

Okay, she was pregnant.  Technically he already was a father.  Maybe, just maybe there was a divine reason that full grown babies didn’t magically appear.  Maybe pregnancy was about giving both the mother and the father time to adjust to the idea, even when the child was the most desired wish they both had.  Maybe if he tacked his bad traits up onto the refrigerator and made himself examine them every day – maybe he could overcome them.  Maybe.  It would be a start at least.  She couldn’t change him, but he could change himself.  Maybe there was hope for them after all.  Maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with their relationship. Arguing was normal.  All couples argued at some point.  And she had kissed him good-bye before leaving for work.  Maybe that kiss was the moment _he knew_.

So should he wait for her to tell him and then act surprised?  No, she would see through that instantly.  He was actually not a good liar with her.  She always saw through him.  On the other hand if he simply responded, “I know,” would she be upset that he had known?  Then again, why should she be upset?  She knew his extraordinary gifts of deduction.  She shouldn’t be surprised at all that he knew.  _Dammit._   Twinges of his narcissism were coming through.

His cell phone buzzed with a text message.

THERE’S SOMETHING I NEED TO TELL YOU, BUT I KNOW YOU ALREADY KNOW.  BUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T KNOW IS THAT YOU’LL BE GREAT.  XXX MH

YOU’RE RIGHT. I DO KNOW. AND THANK YOU.  YOU’LL BE GREAT TOO. X.  SH


End file.
